


Old Friends

by AlexWarden



Category: Welcome to Hell
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexWarden/pseuds/AlexWarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sock, instead of a free-range demon, is a possessed doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

This was it. This was the day. The day that Jonathan Combs would tackle the tedious and grueling task of attempting to clean out the abyss that was the closet in the back of his room. He slid open the door, trash bags in one hand and determination in the other, only to have it be defeated when the hellhole spilled half of its contents onto the floor at his feet.

"Oh good God..."He muttered to himself, slumping in defeat before he had even begun the task. Jonathan hadn't opened this closet in months, much less cleaned it, but his mother demanded that it had to be done when she could smell the piled up laundry and what was most likely rotten food from down the hallway. After analyzing the heap of clothing before him, he decided that the best course of action was to shovel everything into the middle of his room, throw out what had mold on it, and shovel the rest of it back in. His brilliant idea had worked perfectly until he unearthed a tattered box shoved into the corner, several large objects stacked on top of it. The container was decorated with faded crayon scrawlings of "DO NOT OPEN" and "DANGER" on the sides.

            "Huh..." Jonathan said to himself. "It looks pretty old. I wonder what scared me so much as a child that I buried it in here. Oh Lord it had better not be an animal or something." He pushed all of the clutter off of the top of the worn box and braced himself for what was inside, expecting an animal carcass or some kind of firearm or an occult book. When he finally took the lid off of the box, the contents were revealed to be nothing more than a small, faded rag doll. It was very peculiar, it had a handmade red flight hat with goggles on its head, pushing down a mass of tangled hair, a silky scarf covering a brown vest that topped ripped jeans and striped socks, and the most ugly, clunky boots that any man had ever made. And to top it off, as if to complete the look that everything on it was rejected Build-A-Bear clothing, protruding from under its baggy vest was a small purple skirt.

            "Is this...oh my God...this was my favorite toy in the world as a kid! I thought I'd lost it for good!" He exclaimed happily and hugged the toy to his chest. Quickly he examined it for any tears or holes, and finding none, sat down and coddled it like a small child. "It's exactly as I remember it." He knew that he was acting like a child and talking to a doll but he didn't care. The ratty toy in his arms was his only friend growing up, and he'd finally found it again. He thought he had lost his companion forever, but here he was, 8 years later and with a weary soul, his friend had been reunited with him once more.

            "Hah. I don't know why I picked you to be my friend; you do look kind of ridiculous. You had a name just as ridiculous as the rest of you...oh what was it...ah yes, I named you Sock!" He thought for a minute, wondering what on earth prompted him to give his toy such a stupid name. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember that much about the toy at all. It worried him a bit, considering how he found it. Pushing away the thought he placed the toy on his bed so that he could continue cleaning his closet. If his mom walked in and saw that he was cuddling a toy and not doing his job she would have a fit. Despite this, he couldn’t bear to simply throw the object carelessly on the bed. Carefully he propped it up against the pillow so that it looked like it was in a comfortable sitting position, then continued his work on the mess of his closet. An hour and forty-five minutes later, Jonathan had at last completed the gruesome task that had been given to him. Standing up he admired his work, then turned to his bed to take what he considered to be a well-earned nap. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was waiting for him. Sitting in the middle of the bed was the old doll, its eyes focused directly on him, the smile permanently etched onto its face suddenly seeming sinister as opposed to the cheery air that he was used to it having. Suddenly he was beginning to remember why he had locked it in away so many years ago. 


	2. Chapter 1

“What.” He said to himself, puzzled over the movement of the object. He tried to tell himself that he left it like this, that he must have remembered putting it down wrong, but nothing he said could quell the fear pooling in his stomach. Cautiously he walked over to it and gingerly placed a hand on its cheek, testing for any sort of warmth. The toy slowly fell over at the touch, as if to prove that it was simply an inanimate object, incapable of independent thought or movement.

            The toy still radiated a warmth from it, but it had returned to the soft, fleecy feeling that Jonathan knew. Familiarity quieted the unease within him and he sat down on the bed, pulling the doll close to his chest once again. He questioned why he was ever scared of it. Pushing away logical fear he leans back in his bed and cradles the doll’s head with his hand, drifting away into sleep.

            Jonathan awoke with a start in the middle of the night. He glanced at his clock. The red digits read 3:24 a.m. He cursed himself for thinking it was a good idea to take a nap, he should have just waited and gone to bed at a normal hour and slept in. At least it was Saturday tomorrow, so he wouldn’t die of exhaustion in high school hell. He tried to sit up only to feel a weight constricting his neck. The toy had its arms wrapped around his neck, the face buried into the crook of his shoulder. It seemed so cute and lifelike, Jonathan couldn’t help but smile at it, the soft features painted with a faint rosy color, long faded from years of neglect. He felt sorry for leaving it in that box, cold and dark for over eight years. It looked so peaceful, its eyes closed, fast asleep...Wait, asleep?

            He blinked a few times then turned on the light next to his bed to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. The fact was indisputable; the toy’s eyes were closed. They were closed. This THING was alive, and capable of sleep...Every instinct inside of him was screaming that something was wrong with this, this thing was alive and it could be dangerous. But despite everything, even with proof that this was real, he couldn’t bear the thought of locking it away again. He rationalized that the slightest movement would have scared him so much as a child that he would lock it away. Maybe it was friendly. The small toy looked so innocent in his arms, it had to be, cursed or not. Suddenly its arm shifted and it clutched onto Jonathan’s shirt, pulling the soft fabric towards itself. Ok it was now past the point of trying do deny that it was alive, this thing quite obviously moved, and...he was ok with that. This toy had been his only friend when he was young, and perhaps it had wanted to. It hadn’t tried to hurt him; he would have remembered something as bad as that.

            He removed the hat from the dolls head and began to run his fingers through the coarse fake hair on its head. It was so cute, like a small child clinging to him for protection from everything bad in the world, like Jonathan was the only thing that it trusted to keep it safe. What was strange though, is that it wasn’t breathing. It was conscious, and hopefully capable of emotion, but...it wasn’t alive. Or, at least...he didn’t think it was. Suddenly it started to open its eyes a bit, and yawned, letting its guard down. The child him would have been scared senseless, but now, it was an endearing sight. They locked eyes, and a look of sheer terror washed across its already paled face.

            Immediately it went limp, hoping that if it played “dead” Jonathan wouldn’t have noticed its movement before. Unfortunately Jonathan and every other functioning human on the planet was smarter than that.

            “Hey, hey, its ok, you can move. I’m not going to hurt you, it’s ok.” He coaxed, sitting up and cradling it against his torso. No response. Suddenly a grave realization hit Jonathan; he had no reason to be scared of the toy. The toy was scared of him, and, to his dismay, for a good reason. After all, he had locked it in a box for eight years with no possible hope of it ever escaping by itself, all alone. “I’m sorry.” He whispered to it. He felt bad before for leaving it by itself in there, but now that he knew that this thing was conscious, he wanted to rip out his heart. He had locked a living thing in a box for eight years, probably because it was just trying to be friendly. This thing was never going to willingly move in front of him, at least not any time soon, for fear of returning to its prison.           

            “I’m so sorry.” He repeated, and pressed it further into his chest. “I promise I won’t put you back in there, just move again, please?”

            Still nothing. He decided that trying to force it out of hiding wasn’t going to help anything, so he bundled it underneath his pajama shirt against his skin and went back to sleep, making sure the small toy could hear the comforting heartbeat in his chest. Jonathan was determined to make sure he would no longer be an object of fear to something that he kept so close to his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jonathan awoke once more, the plush toy was lifeless, its eyes wide open and the same generic smile plastered on its face.

            “Good morning.” He said to it with a smile. Still no response from the toy. It was putting up a decent fight. “Not ready to talk yet?” He asked it. “Ok. Fine with me.”

He decided to go downstairs to get breakfast, pulling Sock out of his shirt on the way down and propping him up on the table as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

            “JONATHAN!” his mother bellowed from the other room. “I need to run a few errands, I need you to do the laundry while I’m...” she stopped mid-sentence when she walked into the kitchen. “What is that filthy thing doing on the table.” She gestured towards Sock. Offended and slightly worried, Jonathan instinctively pulled Sock to his chest and hugged him tightly.

            “It was my favorite toy as a kid.” Jonathan defended the doll. “I found it while I was cleaning out my closet.”

            “Aren’t you a bit old to be so attached to something like that?” she scorned him. He responded with an apathetic look and returned to stirring his coffee, shifting so that Sock was on his hip comfortably. “Fine. Keep it.” She said and went out the door. Jonathan let out a sigh of relief. She was a bit of a clean freak; he was worried she would make him throw it away. She seemed to understand that it meant a lot to him, and he thanked God for that. He couldn’t stand the thought of him being lost again.

            Finishing his coffee he trudged to the laundry room, cradling Sock in his arms. He figured that he should just get his chore done as soon as he could. He put Sock down on the counter next to the machine and went upstairs to fetch a laundry basket to carry the clothes from his room. When he got back downstairs, he decided to try something. Instead of barging back into the room like he had initially planned, he quietly opened the door and watched the small toy from an angle that he was certain Sock couldn’t see him at.

            Soon enough, just as he had predicted, Sock began to come to life. He blinked slowly and climbed down from the shelf and started to explore his surroundings. Seeing him actually move freely was a very surreal experience. He was very thorough with his study of his surroundings, looking into every nook and cranny and drinking in everything that he possibly could about the unfamiliar environment. Nothing was safe from his experimentation, running his fingers over every new texture and object to try to unlock whatever hidden secrets it could possibly hold. All the while, the smile on his face grew larger and larger, causing Jonathan to do the same.

            He let out a slight chuckle, amused at the toy’s antics before him. His mistake was realized immediately as Sock froze then turned around to face him, his expression was as if he was staring death in the face. And to him, Jonathan knew, he was. What he didn’t expect is what Sock would do after that. He bolted towards Jonathan as fast as he could, trying to dive between his legs and escape to God knows where. Instinctively he flipped the laundry basket upside down over Sock and sat on the top of it, hearing a faint “doof” as he hit the side of the basket.

            “You can’t pretend anymore, I literally just saw you walk around a room for five minutes and then run.” Jonathan said to it. “Come on.” A few seconds of silence passed, then Jonathan heard a faint whimpering noise coming from beneath him. _Oh God is he crying?_ Jonathan thought to himself and got off of the top then crouched down one side of the basket so that he could see inside. Sock was curled up into a ball in the far corner of the basket, shaking and whimpering quietly.

            “No, no, shhh, don’t cry.” He said and lifted up his side of the basket. This only caused Sock to retreat further to the other side and scream in fear. Jonathan was shocked by the sudden outburst and slowed his actions to not scare him any further. “It’s ok, you can trust me.” He said and extended a hand in Sock’s direction. “See?”

            Sock stopped screaming and looked at his extended hand, confused as to what to with it. Seeing no reaction, Jonathan reached further and traced his fingers underneath the doll’s chin. He froze at the touch, but didn’t back away like Jonathan had expected him to. “There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?” he said and scooted towards Sock, then picked him up very gently and held him to his chest. “You like this don’t you?” he said. Sock responded by nuzzling into him and clutching to his shirt, causing warm, fuzzy goop to pool in Jonathan’s chest and stomach. This was quite possibly the cutest thing that he had ever seen in his life.

            He stood up slowly so he wouldn’t scare the small bundle in his arms and began to go back upstairs. Now that this was proven, there was something that he had to do, for everyone’s sake. He could feel Sock getting uneasy as he moved closer towards the closet, suspicious of his every move. Sock was squirming at this point desperate to get away from him, but Jonathan wasn’t going to let that happen. He tightened his grip on Sock with one hand and reached for the old box with the other. The sight of the retched thing elicited a blood-curdling scream from Sock, who began kicking and clawing in desperate but futile attempts to escape from Jonathan.

            _ssSSSSHHHKKK_

            Sock froze in place.

            _SSHHHHKKK._

            The noise repeated itself again. This time Sock looked over to see than Jonathan was tearing apart the box, at first neatly along the sides, then brutally ripping jagged shaped out of the remaining pieces and tossing them to the floor.

            “See?” Jonathan said to him. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re not going back in there. You can’t anymore, it’s gone forever.” Sock looked at him with a mixture of shock and relief, unsure of what to make of the situation. He looked up at Jonathan, as if it would provide an answer. Soft eyes and a warm smile greeted him, causing him to melt into Jonathan’s arms, all previous fears of his actions burning away from him. He was safe; he didn’t need to be afraid of Jonathan anymore. He would protect him; keep him from getting hurt by the rest of the cold, scared world.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan put his hand on the toy’s back and began tracing circles into it to further reassure his gentle intentions, then softly kissed it on the forehead. If he wasn’t mistaken, the pale face of the toy had tinted slightly red, as if someone had dusted a colored powder over it. He wasn’t sure how he could blush at all, but it was reassuring that it was at least capable of positive emotions. The fact that he was the one that caused the reaction made his stomach flop slightly, and he scolded himself for it. _Dude no he could be a kid._

            “Thank you.” Sock said. The voice was definitely older sounding than Jonathan had expected, but it was very sweet and soothing. Everything about him was so innocent. Well, that solved the question of whether or not he could speak. Jonathan took him over to the bed and sat down, Sock sitting on his lap while Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair.

            “Hey, this is kind of sudden, but...what are you, anyway?” He asked, hoping Sock wouldn’t get offended or shy away.

            “What to you mean?” he asked, confused.

            “I mean, how did you get into this situation?” Jonathan replied. “Like, did you just come to life like in Toy Story or something? Or were you a ghost that got stuck in there?”

            “Oh...” he said. “Uhm...well, I kinda...pissed off a witch...”

            “What?” Jonathan said, startled at the suddenly less innocent change of behavior. “How did you manage to do that?”

            “I killed her cat.” He said casually and almost offended, as if it was something that she shouldn’t have gotten mad about, like it was normal.

            “What?! Why?” Jonathan asked, puzzled and mildly concerned.

            “It got in my mom’s garden and messed up her flowers. She grew them from seeds.” He said angrily. “She cried over it. I’ll kill anything that makes my mom cry.” Seeing the motives behind the action made a little bit more sense, but still...killing it?

            “So you used to be human?” Jonathan asked. “How old were you?”

            “Hm...” Sock pondered the question shortly. “Ten or eleven, I think. It’s been a long time.”

            “So...you’re _19 years old!?_ ” He asked, shocked. Sock was older than he was, by three years.

            “Yeah, I guess.” He said. “But toys don’t grow, so I’m stuck like this.”

            “Oh wow...” Jonathan said, taking in what he just heard. “Do you think there’s any way to break the spell?” He asked.

            “I dunno, she turned me into a toy and just dumped me in an alley somewhere.” He said. “I thought I was going to stay there forever, probably mauled by a dog or something. I couldn’t move at first, I could just sit there, lifeless.” He trailed off. “Then you showed up.” He said, looking up at Jonathan. “You found me, and begged your mom to keep me. She said no, but you hid me and took me home. Then you washed me so your mom wouldn’t get mad. I could...I could move after that. After someone cared about me.”

            Jonathan looked at him, thinking. “Do you think that’s how to break the curse? To have someone love you?”

            “I don’t think so.” He said plainly. “She was more creative than that. It might be similar though? Like a twist to it! Like it takes a while, or it has to be a certain kind of love...or maybe I have to kill something! Ooooh I hope it’s that!” He said, almost bouncing with excitement.

            “Uhhh...” Jonathan said, now officially very concerned about his friend.

            “Oh, I didn’t...explain that yet.” He said. “I kind of get urges to kill things. It happened while I was alive, too, so it’s not part of the curse. I don’t kill people though, just animals. I kinda wonder what would happen if I did though, but I’d probably go to jail or a mental hospital or something. That sounds really boring.”

            “You know, most people would get sent to a hospital for killing animals...” Jonathan said.

            “No they don’t.” He said. “People go hunting all the time, killing deer and pheasants and all kinds of animals. I just use a knife instead of a gun.” He did have a point. People would all use knives before guns and bows were invented anyway.

“But I can’t kill anything now.” He said. “I’m way too weak. I can’t even hold a knife anymore.” That was good to know. Even though he was violent, there was nothing that Sock could do to hurt anyone, even if he wanted too.

            “True.” He said. “But I don’t think violence is going to get you out of this if it’s what got you into the mess in the first place. It’s more likely someone taking care of you or something like that.”

            “Yeah, that makes sense.” He said. “But...It’s still too cliché for her tastes, and it’s probably something I have to do myself.”

            “Hmm...” Jonathan replied. “Maybe you need to learn to love someone else. Find something you don’t want to kill, I guess.”

            “Oooh that might be it!” He said happily. “That sounds like something she would do. She’d want me to learn a lesson or something.”

            “Ok, so it’s settled.” Jonathan said. “Try to find something or someone that you care about, that you trust. And who you don’t want to die.”

            “Well, I don’t want you to die.” He said quietly and snuggled into Jonathan further. “But...not always. I kinda wanted you to when you put me in that box.”

Jonathan shuddered at the thought, but dismissed it. To be fair he would want someone dead if they locked him in a box for eight years.

            “Wait, do you think that’s why you can talk now?” Jonathan asked.

            “Hmm, maybe. I didn’t try before.” He replied. “The situation kinda sucks though.”

            “Hm? Why?” Jonathan asked. “Besides the obvious.”

            “Well, I don’t really want to fall in love with anyone.” He answered. Jonathan was a bit hurt, but buried it. This wasn’t the time for feelings like that. Sock seemed to pick it up anyway. “Uh...I don’t mean ever, just not for breaking the curse only, you know? I want to when I’m ready to.”

            “Oh, ok.” That made him feel a bit better, but he couldn’t help but still feel strange about the situation. _No. No you cannot have feelings for a toy._

_But he’s nineteen._

_No._

_What if he turns human?_

_Ehhhh....maybe._ He argued with himself for a little bit before snapping out of his thoughts.

            “That makes sense.” He said. “Forcing feelings is unhealthy. And besides, you can stay with me as long as you need to.”

            “Well duh.” Sock responded. “But there’s one problem. How am I gonna fall in love with someone if I can’t meet anyone? I mean, most people would kind of freak out at the sight of a talking doll.”

            “Hmm, true.” Jonathan replied. “That could make things a bit difficult.”

            “Heh, yeah.” Sock said and looked up at him, smiling. “Maybe I’ll just have to fall in love with you.” Jonathan’s face must have flushed pretty hard because Sock began laughing pretty loudly.

            “PFffTTT AHHAHA DUDE.” He said through snorts. “I was joking! You look like your face is gonna pop!” He calmed down after a few deep breaths and looked up at Jonathan. “But still, thanks for taking care of me though. You’re, like, the only person I’ve met that I don’t have urges to kill.” Jonathan decided to take that as a hopefully intended compliment.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Ok, uhh...thanks.” He said. Suddenly his stomach growled, reminding him that he didn’t have breakfast. “I’m going to go eat something. You hungry?” He asked, then mentally kicked himself. _You don’t even know if he can eat, idiot._

            “Nah. I can taste food, but I can’t swallow it. No internals.” Sock responded and poked at his stomach.

            “How about some gum then?” Jonathan asked him.

            “Only if you have berry or bubble. I hate mint.” Sock said, sticking out his tongue in disgust.

            “Yeah, we have berry.” Jonathan said and stood up, picking up Sock, who buried into the collar of his hoodie and poked his head out the front. “Just don’t blow any bubbles, I’m not washing all of that sticky goop off of your face if you get it all over yourself.” He walked downstairs and took Sock out of his hoodie, placed him on the counter and gave him some gum.

            “Why’d you put me down?” Sock asked, pouting.

            “So I wouldn’t get food on you. Like I said, I’m not bathing you.” Jonathan explained.

            “Fine.” He responded and uncrossed his arms, then took some gum out of the package, chewing it intently. “Hmm, it doesn’t taste like the kind my mom bought me.”

            “If you don’t like it, spit it out.” Jonathan responded, pouring himself some cereal.”

            “No, it’s fine.” He said through the chewing. “I like it. Oh, wait, there goes the taste.” He said and spit it into a napkin.

            “Ok, just don’t have to many more. We only have a few left.” He said and turned around, right into his mom. “Mom?! Uh...I...what are...what are you doing home?” He stuttered.

            “I forgot something so I came back. When I got home I heard talking, so I decided to eavesdrop on you and your little friend here.” She gestured to Sock.

            “Uh...I can...I can explain...this...” He fumbled with the words, terrified of her reaction.

            “What is there to explain?” She said to him and walked over to Sock, who was ‘playing dead’ on the counter. “Your companion here is a possessed toy.”

            “Oh...I...” He said and started to shuffle between her and Sock. “Please don’t give him away or get rid of him.” He continued, picking up Sock. “He’s not dangerous. Please. I can’t loose him again.” He begged her, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

            “Jonathan, I’m not mad.” She said, patting his head with a smile. “Did you forget I talk to angels for a living? This isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this.” She continued and gently took Sock from him, careful not to worry either of them. “Hmm, a curse, I see. Looks like you’ve already figured out part of it, I can see that it’s fading. Good work, Jonathan! You used to be so frightened of these things.”

            “I was?” He asked, holding out his hands to have Sock back. His mother gave the toy back to him and sat down at the kitchen table.

            “Of course! You used to see them as a kid too, just like me.” She said and ran her fingers through her violet hair. “But you were so scared of them that you shut them out. It’s no surprise you can’t remember.” He sat down across from her and set Sock upright on the table.

            “That makes sense. I don’t think I’d be scared of them anymore, but still, I don’t want to see a whole bunch of dead people all the time.” Jonathan said. “Hey, Sock, it’s ok, you can move. She won’t hurt you.” Silence.

            “Hmm. Is he scared of me?” She asked. “Oh, it’s because I didn’t want you to take him home because he had a curse on him. I thought he was a demon, but obviously he’s not. I can see that now that the spell is rubbing off.” She continued and picked up Sock from the table. “Aww, he’s adorable. He definitely liked to dress colorfully. Hmm...He appears to be 19. Wow, he’s been like this for a long time.” She said. “Well, we can help him now!” She said and trailed her fingers gently down his side, eliciting squeals of laughter from him. Immediately after he realized what he had done he wriggled out of her grasp and bolted towards Jonathan.

            “Shh, it’s ok.” He whispered reassuringly, holding the doll in his arms. “She’s nice, it’s ok.” He continued and turned Sock around to face her. “See? She’s fine.” Sock relaxed a bit, getting reassurance from Jonathan. She smiled warmly at him, once again stating that she had no intention to hurt him.

            “Sock, can you come here for a minute? I’d like to look at you a bit more closely.” He backed up into Jonathan, who only pushed him forward. Sock looked around, and figured that if the woman tried to hurt him Jonathan would take him away from her. Tentatively he stood up and waddled across the table. “Ah, there we go.” She said and picked him up. “It looks like the curse needs more than one person to help break it.  I think he needs to show affection to more than just you, Jonathan.” She looked down at Sock. “I think I’ve figured it out. Sock, did you really like your family that much?”

            “Well, not really. I mean, I liked them, but that’s because they were my parents. They didn’t really like _me_ very much.” He said and looked down, drawing a concerned look from Jonathan. “Oh, you poor dear.” She said and hugged him. “Well, now you have a new family! You can call me mom.”

            “Thank...thank you.” He said and hugged her. “My old mom didn’t like me calling her that. She had me call her ma’am or Ms. Sowachowski. I used to have a dad too, but he left her because she was mean to him. She won custody of me. I wanted to go with Dad but she wouldn’t let me.”

            “Oh...I can see why you weren’t able to break the curse now.” She said. You didn’t have love in your life, did you?”

            “No, not really.” He responded.

            “Well now you do!” She exclaimed and hugged him tightly. “You have a mom, a best friend, and quite possibly a dad soon!”

            “What?” Jonathan spat out, confused. “Oh, are you talking that guy with the living sideburns who came over for an appointment last week?”

            “Yes I am, dear. The man finally decided to grow a pair and ask me out. I’m supposed to meet him after work today.” She said, smirking. “He’s such a nervous wreck I thought _I’d_ have to ask him out. But, he pulled through today. I’m actually really proud of him.”

            “Oh, well good for him.” Jonathan said, relatively unenthusiastic. To be honest he had a weird feeling about that guy, but his mom seemed to like him so who was he to complain. Besides, his mom was better at this kind of stuff anyway. He’s probably just strange.

            “Wait, crazy sideburns?” Sock asked. “What color is his hair?”

            “The most ginger hair I have ever seen.” She answered.

            “That sounds like my dad!” He exclaimed. “Can I see him? It might be him!”

            “Oh, sure!” She said. “Anything to help you, dear. I’ll tell him that we’re meeting at my house instead. He’ll be here in a few hours, ok?”

            “Thanks, m-mom.” He said, still afraid to use the term.

            “You’re welcome, dear.” She said and handed him back to Jonathan. “Oh, and before I forget, it looks like that curse it whittling away a bit more. I think we’re on the right track to helping him! Well, I’ll see you boys later. We’ll be here at about 12:30 for lunch. Jonathan, get a shower and get dressed before he gets here.”

            “Ok.” He said and slowly stood up, carrying Sock towards the stairs with him.

            “Jonathan?” Sock asked.

            “Hmm?”

            “Do you really think I’ll get to see my dad again?” He said.”

            “Yeah, sure!” Jonathan responded. “Don’t worry, Sock. I’m sure it’s him.”

            “But...what if he’s scared of me? What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” He started to choke up, tears welling in his eyes.

            “Don’t think that!” Jonathan scolded him. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. We should probably tell him what happened to you first though...you know, so he has time to think before he reacts. And besides, he works with Mom as a medium. I’m sure he’s seen stuff like this before too.” He said and stroked his hair, calming him.

            “Ok. I guess you’re right.” He responded. “I shouldn’t worry too much. Besides, I’d still have you!” He said and hugged Jonathan. He smiled and hugged him back.

            “It’s ok. I’ll keep you safe, it’s ok.” He said. Finally he made it upstairs and set Sock on the bed then went over to his closet to get some nicer clothes. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.” He said and brought them into the bathroom with him so he could change right after he showered. The thought of Sock seeing him in a towel or less wasn’t exactly appealing.

            He’d finished showering in a few minutes then got dressed, brushed his teeth and combed his hair before opening the door. He’d chosen to wear some nice black pants with a dark grey belt, with a button-up shirt. It wasn’t a tux but it was nice enough for new company.

            “So, what do you think?” He asked Sock, who had taken to fidgeting with the sheets on his bed and had rolled himself up in them.

            “Wow, you look great!” He answered, smiling, still rolled up in the sheets, upside down. “Hold on.” He said and rolled over so he could see Jonathan upright. “Oh, you look much better right side up!”

            Jonathan chuckled. The kid was so playful despite what he’d been through. If he wasn’t mistaken, he looked...brighter. His skin wasn’t as faded as it was before, and his cheeks were rosier. He seemed more...alive. His mom was right; it looks like the curse was fading. He smiled at though of Sock being human again, but he wondered how old he’d be. Would he be as old as he was when he was turned, or would his age have caught up to him? It was something he’d linger on for a while. The answer would heavily influence how their relationship developed. If he was 19, then it could go anywhere. If he was 10, however...he’d only have one option. He was ok with him as a little brother, though. The attraction he’d felt towards him had been pretty neutral, now that he’d thought about it. He was ok with anything.

            “Whatcha thinking about?” Sock asked him, startling him a bit.

            “What?” Jonathan asked.

            “You zoned out there for a minute.” He responded and giggled. _Nobody should be this adorable. It’s not fair._

            “Nothing.” He responded.

            “Was it me?” He asked and rolled onto his back again.

            “Um...” Jonathan responded.

            “Oh I got it right!” Sock said, sitting up and bouncing. “I got it right! I guessed me!” He ran over to Jonathan and put his hands up. “Up.” He demanded.

            “Ok, ok.” Jonathan said and picked him up. “Oof...You’re getting heavier.” He said.

            “What, really?!” Sock screamed in delight. “That means it’s wearing off!” He said and hugged Jonathan tightly. _Wow, he’s getting stronger too._ Thoughts of Sock’s ‘urges’ went through his head. _That might be a problem..._ “So...about the...killing urges...” He questioned.

            “Hmm? Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. They’re gone when I’m around you and Mom.” He said and smiled. “You guys actually have helped with it more than anyone. My therapist didn’t help.”

            “You had a therapist?” Jonathan asked.

            “Yeah, but not a very good one.” He responded. “I think my mom just used him as a babysitter.”

            “Huh. Maybe the urges came from frustration.” Jonathan said.

            “What do you mean?” Sock questioned.

            “I mean, maybe you were frustrated that nobody paid attention to you.” He explained.

            “Oh...that actually makes sense.” He responded and rested his head on Jonathan’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I kinda miss having one of these. A heart, I mean.”

            “Yeah, I can see how you would.” Jonathan said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back.”

            “You really think so?” Sock looked up at him, smiling.

            “I promise.” Jonathan said and planted a kiss on his forehead.


End file.
